


challenge seven

by orphan_account



Series: Summer Pornathon '14 [7]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: D/s, M/M, Summer Pornathon 2014, five senses, sight, wanking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-08
Updated: 2014-09-08
Packaged: 2018-02-16 16:23:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,682
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2276487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sight was this week. Visual stimulation, they’d agreed; they’d talked about dressing up, makeup, and other variants of artificial enhancement designed to stimulate the eye. It should be something different, they’d said, if they were going to do this five senses thing for real. Something different. Something special. Merlin certainly hadn't thought it would be this: Arthur merely washing himself in the shower, right in front of him. But, God, it was. Merlin had forgotten that when it came to Arthur, there was no need for anything special...</p>
            </blockquote>





	challenge seven

**Author's Note:**

> Last and, sadly, least, challenge seven: five senses. I'd wanted something elaborate, something with a story perhaps, and I ended up beginning four different stories I never liked. In the end I decided to just go with the most obvious; sight. As in, really just looking at your partner without anything fancy to distort the view. Just naked skin and natural attraction. I love the idea of it. And Arthur, God, he sure is a prime example of aesthetic pleasure... 
> 
> Again, this entry (like all others) is the initial, i.e. longer, version, not the 750-max-words of summerpornathon.
> 
> Had a blast! Hopefully to the next pornathon!

s i g h t

They’d had taste last week, Arthur sucking whipped cream off Merlin’s dick. Merlin can still taste it in his throat, the salty-sweet of his come mixed with the cream, thick and rich, when Arthur had pushed his tongue into his mouth. Touch had been first; they’d denied direct contact, and Merlin had teased Arthur with a feather to his nipples and trembling abdomen until Arthur’s fingers had cramped holding onto the sheets, white-knuckled. Hearing had been coupled with touching, their bedroom darkened with the shutters down completely, Merlin over Arthur on all fours, not touching Arthur except for how he breathed all his filthy fantasies into the shell of Arthur’s ear.

Sight was this week.

Visual stimulation, they’d agreed; they’d talked about dressing up, makeup, and other variants of artificial enhancement designed to stimulate the eye. It should be something different, they’d said, if they were going to do this five senses thing for real. Something different. Something _special_.

Merlin hadn’t thought it would be this: the wall hard against his back, his palms trembling against it. The breath wearing in and out of his chest in fast, harsh pulls. His entire body one tight cage of coiled muscles.

And Arthur merely washing himself in the shower, right in front of him.

It hadn’t been intentional, hadn’t been planned. Merlin had merely come home, needing a piss, and he’d surprised Arthur in the shower. That’d been all. Nothing special about it. Nothing that had certainly been inspiring enough for sight, Merlin had thought, but then Arthur had already glanced over his shoulder at Merlin, had treated him to a slow smirk, and a murmured, “Watch,” before continuing to wash himself like Merlin wasn’t even in the room with him.

And Merlin had been reminded that when it came to Arthur, there was no need for anything _special_. Arthur was—he was...

He was a _bulk_ of a man. His skin was a glistening, wet pink-pale stretch over a solid, stocky frame as he supported himself with a palm to the wall, the other hand in his hair to wash it. He was quick and efficient, never one for taking much time in the shower to indulge himself. The suds of the shampoo clung to the back of his neck, but Merlin wasn’t watching that. He was watching the muscles in Arthur’s biceps flex, the muscles underneath the skin of Arthur’s back shift with the rhythmic movement of his arms, and most of all he was entranced by how that broad upper body melted into a slim waist and narrow hips.

“Fuck me,” Merlin said, hoarse, had to wipe his palms on his trousers from how clammy they were. “Christ.”

Arthur seemed to have heard him, because he finished up and turned the shower off. He turned around to mirror Merlin’s pose, leaning back against the wall of the shower, relaxed and loose. He was blinking against the water but still staring at Merlin, pinning Merlin into place with his eyes.

“Not our schedule tonight,” he said.

Merlin had to clear his throat to get the words out. “Sure?” He gestured towards the outline of his erection in his trousers. “Wouldn’t exactly say no.”

Arthur’s laugh was low and husky. “I can see that,” he said, licking his lips. He let his hand wander down his stomach slowly, scratching his nails through his pubic hair, drawing Merlin’s gaze to his half-hard cock. “I’d be up for it too, but...”

“But?” Merlin wasn’t whingeing.

“You’re gonna watch tonight.” The grin unfurling on Athur’s face was slow, crooked. “And you’re gonna love it,” he said, low, self-assured, arrogant, promising, and, God, so fucking _sexy_.

He didn’t give Merlin time to adjust. His hand was firm around his cock, his beautiful, beautiful cock. Merlin wanted it in his mouth, wanted it thick and intruding in his throat, that gorgeous thing. It was in perfect ratio to Arthur’s body, thick and long, curving up to his stomach. As if made for Arthur’s wide-spanning grip, it looked impressive even underneath Arthur’s large hand. It was still wet from the shower so Arthur could slide his fist up and down without trouble, a smooth glide that pulled sharp puffs of breath from his throat.

Merlin swallowed down the saliva flooding his mouth at the sight of Arthur pulling one off. He shifted on his feet, tried hard to ignore his own prick straining in his trousers. He bit back a gasped, “Fuck,” when Arthur’s thighs parted more as Arthur got really into it, working himself over just a little faster, a little more frantically, twisting his wrist on the upstroke and swiping the pad of his thumb over his slit so he could hiss his out pleasure.

“God, Arthur,” Merlin said, shakily, twisting his fingers in the fabric of his trousers. He wanted to touch. He wanted to _taste_.

As if hearing his thoughts, Arthur’s eyes shot up to Merlin’s face, burning, dark, from underneath his wet fringe. His hand stilled on his cock, and his breathing was deep, laboured. “I want you there,” he murmured, and it seemed out of context until he slid his hand underneath his balls. They hung between his legs, tight and heavy, and Arthur began to knead them, rolling them in his palm. “Between my legs. On your knees.”

“Yes,” Merlin hissed. He kept staring at Arthur’s face, aching with the same fantasy. He wanted his knees to hurt from kneeling for Arthur.

“I’d hold your head and make you suck my balls,” Arthur said, squeezing his bollocks. His eyes didn’t leave Merlin’s face. “Make you take them.

Merlin’s nostrils flared. He couldn’t help himself and pressed the heel of his hand against his trousers, needing relief. It tore a groan from his throat.

“I’d keep you there,” Arthur muttered. His chest heaved from keeping himself in control, broad and magnificent, and Merlin wanted to capture the hair there shimmering wetly from the shower in the bathroom light between his fingers to _pull_. “All day. Til your knees hurt with it. I’d—”

“Oh, fuck, _yes_ ,” Merlin swore, all reason lost, barriers broken down, heart racing with the idea of it. His trousers were down faster than he realised, and he stared at Arthur like a man possessed, looking ridiculous with his trousers around his ankles and his cock hard.

He didn’t know he was waiting for permission until Arthur said roughly, “Get on the floor,” and he did. The echoing _thud_ of it was thrillingly satisfying, sending a shudder down his spine, straight to his cock.

“God, you _slut_ ,” Arthur said, darkly delighted, if the way his cock spurted pre-come over his fingers was any indication. “You love it, don’t you?”

“Yes,” Merlin said in a rush. His erection was flushed at the head, glistening with pre-come. Would’ve been hard to pull a lie off like this.

Arthur settled back against the wall, kept tugging at himself, eyes feasting on the picture of submission that was Merlin on his knees. Merlin watched, entranced, moved his tongue around in his mouth like he could feel Arthur’s balls on it. He felt the memory of them on the flat of his tongue, the skin softly rough and warm. It made his hands twitch as he watched Arthur fondling his balls, and he wanted to push them away to replace them with his own. Arthur fisted his cock again, a long-fingered, tight, sure grip. The sight made Merlin’s cock ache in sympathy, and he gripped it, breath stuttering.

“On your knees for me,” Arthur said, voice going thin with arousal. He moved his hand in an irregular rhythm, and the muscles of his shoulder moved with it, accentuating the thickness of his neck. It showed the clear outlines of the tendons there, and Merlin had the vivid image of mouthing at them, feeling them move beneath his lips, sensing Arthur’s rapid heartbeat under his tongue. “You want it. Say you want it.”

Arthur clenched his jaw against the pleasure, shifting his feet wider apart. Merlin had to squeeze his eyes shut. His hand was fast on his cock, too fast, inducing an overflow of pleasure that wracked through his body. If he opened his eyes now, the sight of Arthur jerking off would be his death. “Yes, Arthur, want it, want you to put me there—”

“Such a slut, God, Merlin,” Arthur grit out from behind bared teeth. The slick sounds of their mutual wanking made Merlin’s ears feel hot, and his breath shivered out of him. His eyes opened again to Arthur’s feet sliding apart even more, his thighs along with it. Arthur had a palm against the wall to brace himself as he wanked his glorious cock with his other hand furiously, fast, fast, and hard, as if racing for the pleasure. Merlin made a helpless noise at the sheer aesthetic pleasure and insane hotness that was freshly-showered Arthur giving his balls and cock a royal treatment with his large, lovely hands. Arthur’s body was all tight shoulders, tense stomach, clearly veined flexing forearms, trembling thighs and a red-bitten mouth, and Merlin stared at him, slack-jawed, now helplessly jerking his own cock with both hands, frantically.

When Arthur came, he threw his head back and bared his strong neck. Above the sharp outline of his jaw, his full lower lip jutted out, and his Adam’s apple bobbed as he came all over his thighs and stomach with a sharp, guttural, grunted, “ _Mer_ lin!”

Merlin was less vocal when the heat gripped him too, choking on his breath as his stomach turned to liquid heat. The pleasure was a whitehot rush burning out too fast, leaving him bent over on wobbly legs. He blinked down hazily at the mess he made, having come all over his thighs and on the floor between his legs, but it didn’t matter. Reality consisted only of Arthur’s wide, shocked eyes on him and the sharp pain in his kneecaps as he kept kneeling on the hard floor, solid and grounding, there only for Arthur.


End file.
